My Daddy Says
by Taz
Summary: Two five-year-old boys, one sandbox and an eternal argument...
1. Default Chapter

Author: Ta

Title: My Daddy Says…

Rating: G

Summary: Two five-year-olds, one sandbox, one eternal argument…

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the actual characters named however Jessy and Colm are my own creations.

Author's notes: This is something I'm definitely going to turn into a sequel. Just a few slices of life from your average all-American Vampire/Slayer family as seen through the eyes of their five-year-old son. I'm sorry this is so short, more reviews will make a sequel appear faster lol.

"Is your daddy taking you to the park this weekend? Mine is."

"My daddy can't play in the sun," Colm informed his friend Jessy.

"That's 'cause your dad's a sissy," Jessy retorted.

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

"NOT!"

"TOO!"

"Boys," their teacher called warningly from her position on the nearby park bench. "Play nicely."

"My dad could kick your dad's butt."

"Could not."

"Could too."

"Ah-hah."

"Nuh-uh. My dad's a fireman," Jessy declared proudly. "He's _real_ big and _real_ strong."

"Well my dad's s private investigator," Colm shot back, pronouncing the difficult title carefully.

"What's that?" Jessy asked, momentarily interested.

"It means he helps the helpless," Colm informed him, puffing out his chest and giving his friend a lofty look.

"Oh," Jessy replied. "Is that why he had all that stuff at your house?"

"What stuff?"

"All those swords and stuff…?"

"Oh, you mean all daddy's stuff that we're not allowed to touch? Yeah. He uses those to fight monsters."

"Monsters aren't real, my daddy says so."

"_My _daddy says that anyone who ignores that monsters are real is a…" he paused as he tried to recall exactly what his father had said. "A foolhardy idiot."

"My dad's not an idiot!"

"Is too," Colm stated smugly. "My mommy and daddy both know all about monsters 'cause my mommy used to be a slayer."

Jessy knew better than to argue back, rather he fumbled in his backpack for his packed lunch and drew out a pungently scented sandwich. 

"Want some?" he offered his friend.

"What's in it?"

"Garlic chicken."

"Not allowed garlic, my daddy isn't allowed it near him."

"_My_ daddy can eat whatever he wants," Jessy stated smugly.

"My dad doesn't eat much."

"Doesn't your mommy yell at him?"

"Nah, she doesn't mind."

"My daddy says you have to eat lots if you want to grow big and strong… your dad must be real small and skinny if he doesn't eat."

"He is _not_," Colm rounded on his friend. "No one in the hotel is bigger than my daddy, well, except Uncle Gunn but he's bigger than Uncle Spike, Uncle Wesley _and_ Uncle Xander. Uncle Spike says that back in the olden days my daddy was a bad-ass vampire but now mommy's de-fanged him."

"You said a dirty word!" Jessy squealed, clapping his hand over his mouth and widening his eyes in shock. "And no way is your daddy a vampire! Vampires aren't real."

"My daddy's real, isn't he?"

"I'll tell your mom you were telling lies!"

"I'm not. My daddy's a vampire, that's why he sleeps all day, can't play in the sun and why he never eats much."

"He must drink blood… _euwwww,"_ Jessy began to chant in a singsong voice. "Colm's dad's a weirdo, Colm's dad's a weirdo."

"He is _not!"_ the hotheaded little boy yelled back, stamping his foot. "Being a vampire's cool, daddy looks the same all the time and he can make his face look really cool."

Jessy seemed to consider this for a second before shrugging and finishing off his sandwich.

"Miami Dolphins are better than the New York Jets."

"Are not," Colm growled back.

"Are too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

"Well, my daddy says…"


	2. What's A Nancy?

Author: Taz

Title: 'My Daddy Says...' - What's A Nancy...?

Summary: One evening at home with the O'Connor's...

Author's Notes: I never liked Dawn. You will notice in this chapter that I have conveniently written her out of the whole thing. She has ceased to exist. And that, my friends, is the way I like it =0)

Disclaimer: Once again, I own no one but the little guy. 

"Evening little guy! How was school?" Angel asked his son jovially, ruffling the child's dark hair.

"Ms Horner yelled at me," his son replied sullenly, staring down angrily at the broccoli on his plate as though it alone was responsible for all the troubles held by the five-year-old son of a vampire and a slayer.

"Why's that then?" Angel asked, sitting down at the dinner table and smiling encouragingly at his son.

"She yelled at him," Buffy informed her husband from the kitchen. "Because he once again repeated something your foul-mouth childe told him."

"Which was...?"

"That you're a," she paused at the doorway to theatrically clear her throat. "Bad-ass vampire."

"Uncle Spike never said that, no siree," Colm quietly informed his glass of milk. "He said dad _used to be a bad-ass vampire but now he's a Nancy."_

"_Colm!" Buffy chastised her son. "Don't talk about your father that way!"_

"What _is a Nancy anyway?" Colm asked innocently._

"Someone that wears too much hair gel and moons around after blonde slayers, Nibblet," previously lamented blond vampire stated, entering the room and sitting down on the couch.

"Why hello Spike, how good of you to drop by and insult me, what with my son being present and all," Angel bristled.

"Any time, Angel mate, any time."

Buffy quickly stepped between the two vampires as she saw Angel reaching subtly for the nearest candlestick.

"Okay, one mug for you," she placed a steaming mug in Angel's hands, bending to brush a kiss to his brow before turning to Spike and handing him an identical mug... well identical save for the fact that Angel's had been decorated by Colm over a year ago and so was covered in technicolour streaks and splodges that supposedly resembled everyone that he lived with (namely himself, his mother and father, his Uncle Spike recognisable only by the yellow blob that made up his head and his Uncle Wesley). 

The male vampires continued to stare each other out as they drank until Colm's sweet, high voice interrupted them.

"So if dad's a Nancy boy," Angel growled. "What are you Uncle Spike 'cause you wear hair gel?"

"Ah yes Nibblet, the important factor here is I don't moon after blonde slayers-"

"You used to," Buffy interjected with a cruel smile, feeling an urge to defend her husband.

"Yes but-"

"_And you don't bite people," Colm pointed out._

"Well, you see-"

"_AND you have a soul," Angel put in._

"But-"

"_AND you watch 'Days of Our Lives'," Buffy _

"That is a _good show-"_

"_AND you read me fairytales and act them out," Colm informed them._

"He does?" Buffy and Angel chorused in unison before collapsing into fits of giggles.

"OK, I admit it," Spike huffed, draining the last of his supper. "I'm Slayer/Nancy/Nibblet whipped. I do whatever I'm told but it puts a bloody roof over my head."

"We're sorry Spike," Buffy gave him a brief hug.

He 'harrumphed and turned away.

"We didn't mean to upset you, buddy," Angel offered.

Spike simply stared blankly at the wall.

"Sorry Uncle Spike," Colm offered, hugging the bleach blonde's leg.

"Ah Nibblet," Spike muttered gruffly, knowing if he could he would be blushing. "Get away with ya."

As Colm yawned sleepily, Angel scooped him up easily in his arms. Turning to his childe and wife he rubbed his son's back affectionately as he spoke in his low, confident voice.

"I'll take him up and put him to bed, okay?"

"Sure," Buffy responded, brushing a kiss to her sons' brow. "Night sweetheart."

"Night mommy, night Uncle Spike."

"Night Nibblet," came the reply from the lounge where Spike was already comfortably settled watching some soap opera or other.

As the two could be heard climbing the stairs, Buffy heard her son speak to his father.

"Daddy..."

"Yes, son?"

"What's a poof?"

"Well, uh... you see..."


	3. Why Can't He Just Be Normal?

Author: Taz

Title: My Daddy Says... - Why Can't He Just Be Normal?

Summary: Colm questions his father's lack of tan, his normalcy and family life in general...

Author's Notes: I'm glad you're all liking the little guy, I've got to admit, he's kinda cute, isn't he? Lol. Keep reviewing and I keep writing!

Disclaimer: I own no one but Colm. I'm just borrowing them for a while 'cause _my daddy says you should always share your toys! Don't worry Mr Whedon; I'll put them back unbroken, I promise!_

The day had begun, as every other day, with noise. As Buffy and Angel had lain, curled together, in their bed, sound asleep a reverberating crash had echoed through the hotel. Snapping awake instantly, Buffy was out of bed and into her robe before Angel had even had the chance to groggily blink and sit up.

"Whassamatter?" he slurred, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Loud noise, no screams, this can _not be good," Buffy muttered, hurrying out of the room and towards the source of the noise._

What she found, having prepared herself for the sight of tiny skulls cracked, little bones broken or at the very least baby teeth chipped and minor unconsciousness, was a very guilty looking little boy, his dark hair ruffled with sleep, his big brown eyes darting around the room like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights.

Glancing down in front of him, Buffy allowed her eyes to rest on the huge, and no doubt irreplaceably expensive, vase that lay smashed into a thousand shards of porcelain on the hall floor. Sliding her eyes to the side she discovered the cause in the form of a large toy dump truck lying on it's side about two feet away, it's wheels still spinning slowly.

"What are we going to do with you?" she sighed.

"Mommy I-" Colm made to take a step towards her, his little bare feet hovering mere centimetres away from the sharp pieces on the polished wooden floor.

"Colm stay right where you are," she barked.

His foot snapped back instantly and she heaved a sigh of relief as the delicate skin retreated to a safe distance away from the broken vase. "I don't want you to cut yourself sweetie, now you wait _right here until mommy gets this cleared up."_

Colm nodded meekly before speaking softly. 

"It was an accident mommy, I never meant to... I just pushed the truck a little and it zoomed into the table and the pot-"

"Vase," Buffy corrected absently as she knelt to begin sweeping the pieces up.

"It sort of went all wobbly then it fell and daddy's not gonna be mad, is he?"

"What happened here?" Angel boomed, appearing from the master bedroom and staring down at the pieces of porcelain in the dustpan that had once been a priceless antique vase.

"Colm... had a little accident," Buffy informed her husband, standing and resting a hand on his forearm before murmuring softly. "Don't be hard on him, he didn't mean to."

"Colm," Angel chastised gently. "You need to be more careful when you play along here. I've told you time and time again how expensive everything is and not to drive your cars around here. Take them down to the lobby or play with them in your room in future young man."

"Yessir," Colm replied meekly, his eyes on the floor.

"What are we going to do with you?" Angel sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Are Uncle Xander and Nicky still coming over today mommy?" Colm asked hopefully, searching in his naive way to change the subject.

"Should be," Buffy replied, sweeping up the last remnants of the vase before turning to Angel. "Can you fix this or shall I just throw it away?"

"I'll try but if it looks too much like a Colm creation," he smiled affectionately at his son. "We'll just throw it away."

"You," Buffy turned her attention to her son. "Get into your room and get dressed, Xander and Nicky should be here in oh," she glanced at her watch. "About an hour and I don't want to be waiting around. Off you go."

Colm skipped merrily away down the hallway, darting into his room and rummaging through his drawers for something to wear. Buffy followed him and helped him to pick out an outfit.

"Here you go," she said, hading him his treasured New York Jets football shirt.

"I don't like that any more," he huffed.

"But you love the Jets!" she exclaimed. "I can never prise you away from the couch when they're playing."

"Yeah, well, Jessy's dad says they're dumb."

"What does Jessy's dad know? You're daddy likes them."

"All the kids at school are calling my dad a weirdo 'cause he never takes me to the park in daytime."

"Do you think your dad's a weirdo," Buffy questioned softly, wrapping her arm around her son.

"No, but... why _can't daddy go out in the sun?"_

"We've been through this Colm," she murmured, kissing his temple gently. "Your dad can't go out in the sun. If he did, he'd die, and you don't want daddy to die."

"Nobody else's daddy would die if he takes them to a baseball game," Colm said. "Daddy didn't even watch me play basketball."

"He wanted to Colm, but it was _outside. If it had been indoors he'd have been there, front row centre, and you know that."_

"I wish I had a normal daddy."

"Colm, your daddy loves you very much, he thinks more of you than most dad's think of their kids, you should be _so grateful and love him __so much..."_

"I wish he could be a real person then."

"Colm," Buffy whispered, handing him a clean shirt. "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride."


	4. The Joys Of The Park

Author: Taz:

Title: My Daddy Says... - The Joys Of The Park

Summary: Buffy attempts to placate her son with a day trip to the park...

Author's Notes: Okay, that last one was a little serious for my liking. I think it's time to get back to the light-hearted stuff.

Disclaimer: Golly-gee Mr Whedon, I'm only borrowin' 'em. I won't hurt 'em, I promise!

"Colm put him down!" Buffy called to her son as he dragged Nicky, physically, towards the swings.

"Jeez Buffy, he's like a little ox!" Xander exclaimed, watching in fascination as Buffy's son threw a Frisbee only for it to sail a good quarter of a mile before thudding into a tree.

"I know," Buffy sighed, passing her hand over her eyes. "His teacher told me just the other day to stop sending him to Karate classes."

"But you don't..."

"I know, that's the worrying thing. It's like he just _knows what to do to defend himself."_

"I guess Dead Boy being his father really doesn't help."

"Xander! Will you kindly refrain from referring to my husband as 'Dead Boy', you're a little old for name-calling now."

"Seriously Buffy, what are you going to do about him?"

"Home schooling?"

"Funny."

"Unfortunately Xander," she turned to her friend with a smile. "I wasn't trying to be."

"There's always Ritalin..."

"Xander, I refuse to drug my son."

"It worked on Nicky when he used to get hyperactive."

"Nicky has ADHD. Colm has one vampiric parent and one whose sole purpose in life is to slay demons. I really don't think behaviour modification drugs are going to help."

"Think of something he can positively focus his energy on... like... karate classes?"

"Weren't you listening?"

"Probably not, no..."

"Xander, go away!" Buffy muttered playfully. "If you can't say anything helpful..."

"There's always military school..."

"Stop it!"

*          *          *

"Wanna play Ninjas?" Colm asked Nicky casually as they sat on the jungle gym.

"Nah," Nicky replied, swinging his legs and flicking his dirty blonde hair out of his eyes.

"Why not?" Colm pouted.

"Last time we played Ninjas you tore my jacket and my mommy says that money doesn't grow on trees. And she said that people give _her money for goods and services she doesn't want to have to hand it __back because Buffy and Angel's little monster doesn't have any social skills."_

"Who's Buffy and Angel's monster?"

"Don't know."

"Oh. So, what do you wanna play?"

"We could play cowboys and Indians, but you broke my gun last time," Nicky said sullenly.

"I did not!"

"You did too!"

"Didn't!"

"Did! You threw it and it went in the pond and now it doesn't go bang it just goes pop and it sounds _lame."_

"You're no fun," Colm pouted.

"I know what we can do," Nicky shot his best friend a cruel smile as he stared at the adults then cast a glance around the playground. "What we're gonna do is..."

*          *          *

"Xander? Where are the boys?" Buffy asked, glancing around in concern.

"Uh... they were right there a minute ago...."

"Yeah well they're not now! COLM? NICKY?"

"Nicholas Harris come out here right now!" Xander yelled.

No boys emerged, terrified, Buffy jogged to the playground and turned to one of the eldest children there.

"Have you seen two little boys, one of them's wearing a Lakers shirt, around here?"

"They went that way," the little girl replied, gesturing for the lake.

"Oh God no!" 

Buffy was sprinting towards the lake before Xander had a full grasp of what had happened. He was hot on her heels but couldn't hope to match Slayer speed. By the time he reached them he was shocked to find Buffy _and Angel scolding their son and his in the shade of a clump of trees. Casting a glance to the side he discovered Angel's blacked out car and a blanket tossed to the ground nearby._

"Never, _ever do that again!" Angel yelled, gesturing to the rope swing that hung over the water. _

Xander took in Angel's soaked clothes and gathered he had taken a bit of a ducking to help his son. 

"Aw but _dad," Colm whined. "I was okay."_

"You were swinging on that... that... _thing," Angel growled, fighting his game face as the shock of what could have happened caught up with him. "You could have fallen in and been seriously hurt young man. Now," he dropped down so that his face was level with his son's and stared at him hard, his eyes resting on an alarming shade of amber. Colm stared back unfazed, he was used to seeing his dad like this, Nicky however shrunk back against his own father. "I want you to promise me you'll never do that again."_

"I promise," Colm replied flippantly, burying his hands in the pockets of his drenched jeans.

"You didn't mean that!" Angel exploded, thoroughly exasperated.

"Good point," was Colm's only answer.

"Where did he get such a god-damned smart mouth?" Angel asked Buffy wonderingly.

"His facetious side started to show itself right about the time you and Spike started arguing a lot..." Buffy informed him softly.

"Oh..." Angel trailed off, obviously embarrassed.

"Colm, listen to me, little boys get hurt playing on things like this. Try and be a good boy and play other games okay? Something like Ninjas?"

"But _mommy, me and Nicky aren't __allowed to play Ninjas 'cause his mommy says yours and daddy's monster broke his jacket," Colm lamented._

"Who's our mon-... oh," Buffy cast a despairing glance at Xander.

"Mommy, who _is yours and daddy's monster?"_

"Well... uh... you see..."


	5. But It IS An Heirloom

Author: Taz

Title: My Daddy Says... - But It _Is An Heirloom..._

Summary: What one thing is guaranteed to have all kindergarten teachers quaking with fear? A show and tell presentation from a kid whose parents slay demons, that's what...

Disclaimer: Don't own, pretend to own, or intend to make money from this... aren't disclaimers a boring waste of time?

"This is a crossbow," the small, dark-haired boy informed his classmates, hefting the cumbersome wooden instrument easily.

"Colm O'Connor put that down this instant!" yelped his teacher from a safe position behind the reading corner bookshelf.

"It's not loaded," he replied, shooting his teacher a look of disdain. "What sort of family do you think I come from?!"

"I don't care whether it's loaded or not," the poor young woman squeaked. "You could take someone's eye out with that thing!"

"I've lived around it my whole life and _my eyes are still in my head, aren't they?" Colm grumbled to himself. "Can I put it on the desk and talk about it?"_

"Absolutely not! That... _thing is an offensive weapon! This is a respectable private school and you're turning it, single-handedly, into a disgrace."_

"Why?" Colm asked, his classmates were eyeing the piece of deadly looking equipment in his hands with interest, and the fact it had their teacher hiding behind copies of Little Red Riding Hood and Peter Pan only served to make it all the more fascinating.

"Hey Colm!" called one boy from the back of the class. "What does that thing _do?"_

"My mommy used to use it to shoot bolts at vampires," Colm declared proudly.

"My Daddy says..." began Jessy from the back of the room.

"Shut up Jessy, no one _cares what your daddy says."_

"_Colm," snapped his teacher, marching to the front of the room when she realised he wasn't going to turn on his classmates or herself with the crossbow. "It's neither polite nor nice to speak like that to someone."_

"Yeah, well he started it," Colm muttered quietly. "Can I finish my talk ma'am?"

"I suppose so," she sighed wearily and sat down in her chair, keeping herself carefully between the child and the weapon.

"_Anyway, mommy's the best and baddest vampire slayer that Watcher's Council ever sawed and so she got to use this real quick and she killed lots of monsters with it. She once killed my daddy too, but that was with a sword and anyway he was evil at the time but that was before he got his soul and Uncle Spike says it's a good thing 'cause mommy makes him happy __all the time now but I couldn't get to ask why 'cause mommy told Uncle Spike to shut his dirty mouth in front of me. No one ever tells me __anything," Colm paused for breath._

"Colm," his teacher began. "You really are going to have to stop inventing these stories one day. No one ever gets to learn a thing about you because you persist in inventing these tales of monsters and vampires. And I distinctly recall telling you to bring in an 'heirloom'. Who remembers what that is?" 

"Something that gets given to you from your parents that you give to your kids and they give to their kids," Jessy replied, shooting Colm a smug grin.

"Thank you Jessy. Now Colm, this... _thing, it isn't really an heirloom is it?"_

"Sure it is," Colm replied with a puzzled frown. "Mommy says I can use it some day when I'm big enough to help daddy catch bad guys and demons."

"Yes Colm, now tell us what your daddy _really does."_

"He's a private investigator ma'am."

"Well that's wonderful, does he work with the police?"

"Not exactly... daddy says the police don't really like him 'cause he can handle all the cases they don't understand."

"Colm the sooner you put all this ridiculous nonsense out of your head the better," his teacher snapped. "Now, do you have anything else to show the class?"

"Just Mr Pointy," he shrugged, pulling a jagged and vicious looking stake out of his backpack.

"Colm O'Connor! March yourself to the principal's office _this instant," the teacher barked. "And put that stick down before you go."_

"Next time I'm bringing a dumb plate like Jessy did," Colm muttered as he grabbed his bag and headed out of the door.


	6. Playtime!

Title: My Daddy Says… Playtime!

Author: Taz

Summary: Colm has a friend over for dinner… would he be so cruel as to threaten the poor child with tales of vampires? You betcha!

A/N: This actually comes after the next chapter I intended to put up but I'm having problems with my home computer so bear with me.

Rating: G I guess. Enjoy!

"Colm would _love_ to have Jessy over to play," Buffy informed the middle-aged brunette that she assumed was Jessy's mother.

"No I wouldn't," Colm put in quickly, glancing fearfully at his mother to check she was being serious.

"Of course you would sweetheart," Buffy bestowed a threatening glare upon him as she turned back to look at him.

"But-"

"So you can bring him over any time before dinner, or we could take him now if you'd like?"

Colm swallowed nervously. His mother frequently got it into her head that he should have more friends from school and so forced these little 'playtimes' upon him. He usually took them with good grace although he didn't understand what was wrong with hanging around with just Nicky and Jakob, Faith's son. But Jessy? Surely his mother wasn't _that _simple.

"Jessy?" the woman turned to her son, he grunted and looked up. "Would you like to go to Colm's house now?" 

The blonde boy shrugged and flicked his floppy hair back from his brow in that nancified way that made Colm want to hit him with his dad's battleaxe.

"Okay, I'll see you tonight honey, be good."

And with that Colm's fate was sealed for the evening. Buffy loaded them both into the car and glanced back, a smile passing across her face at the sight of the two sweet-looking little boys. Colm didn't say a word the whole drive home, he was too busy wondering how he would ever get his Uncle Spike to stop teasing him that he had poofy friends or how to convince his dad to prove to Jessy that vampires were real.

Once they arrived back to the hotel, Buffy set them both off doing their homework, once again she smiled at the sight, both heads bent over books, the dark and the fair. It was a good thing she didn't listen too closely to exactly what the dark said to the fair or she may have had a few choice words to say herself.

"My Uncle Spike's gonna think you're a poof."

"What's a poof?"

"Don't know exactly, but it's something that Uncle Spike only says when he thinks someone's dumb."

"I'm not dumb."

"You are too. You said vampires weren't real well I'm gonna tell my daddy and Uncle Spike and they'll eat you for dinner."

"Your daddy's not scary," Jessy said doubtfully. "I think you're lying Colm O'Connor."

"Think what you want," Colm shot the little boy an evil grin, it was times like this when it became apparent that vampiric, both souled and… otherwise, had been passed on to Colm from the once-Scourge of Europe. 

"Who's your Uncle Spike?" Jessy asked, eager to change the subject.

"Oh, you'll see, him and daddy should be waking up pretty soon."

"They sleep all day? My daddy says only lazy people who don't work sleep during the day."

"Jessy ya moron I've already told you; no one _cares_ what your dumb dad says, okay?"

"Loser," Jessy muttered under his breath.

"Who's a loser?" boomed a loud British voice from the stairwell.

"Uncle Spike!" Com hurled himself at the blonde's legs.

"Gerroff me Nibblet," Spike grumbled, patting the dark head, that reached somewhere close to his hip, affectionately. "And who's this?"

Jessy seemed to shrink back into the chair he was sitting on as he squirmed away from the icy blue stare being bestowed upon him.

"That's Jessy," Colm informed Spike with a roll of his eyes hat conveyed his contempt for the youngster his mother had forced him into entertaining.

Spike smiled, a slow, cruel twist of his mouth as he gazed thoughtfully at the sandy-haired boy currently cowering in Angel's four hundred dollar, antique oak chair. As Colm looked over towards the kitchen Spike locked eyes with the clearly terrified child and flashed his game face. It only lasted the briefest of moments and as Jessy stared fearfully at the placidly human features of William the Bloody he couldn't be certain if he'd seen it. But for a second Colm's Uncle had looked awfully weird.

Maybe he was a vampire. 

Colm dropped back into his seat and continued to work on his homework, studiously ignoring Jessy's attempts to start a conversation as he concentrated on his math work. Buffy soon appeared bearing cartons of chocolate milk and a plate of cookies for them to snack on and it was during this permitted break that Jessy one again broached the subject of vampires.

"So, does your daddy sleep in a coffin?"

"_No_," Colm stated, confused. "He sleeps in a bed with my mommy."

"Yeah well my daddy-" Jessy bit off the sentence as Colm shot him a look that suggested he would be without legs if he finished it. "Vampires sleep in coffins," he stated matter-of-factly.

"That a fact?" Colm returned lazily. "And you've met how many…?"

"None. I just know."

"Really? I just happen to live with two and I think maybe _my opinion might be right," Colm shot back, calling on every ounce of pompous British-ness he had learnt from living around Wesley and occasional visits from his much loved Uncle Giles._

"Well… maybe," Jessy looked uneasily towards the kitchen where Spike had disappeared.

"Dinnertime boys," Buffy called into the dining room. "I hope you didn't fill up on cookies."

"No mom," Colm sighed, rolling his eyes and clearing the books off the table. "Mom, when will daddy be home?"

"He _is home sweetheart, he's upstairs in bed, want to go and wake him?"_

"Yeah sure, come on Sissy… uh I mean Jessy," he amended hurriedly when he saw his mother's icy glare.

"See if you can tempt Connor out his lair while you're there," she called after them.

"Who's Connor?" Jessy asked in a fearful whisper, wondering just what would be lurking in O'Connor household that would require a lair.

"Connor?" Colm looked at his friend with a look of horror and fear on his face as they crept down the upstairs corridor. "Oh he came from a Hell dimension…"

Colm was a brilliant little actor when he put his mind to it and right now he was playing up to it as much as he could, taking advantage of the creepy-looking surroundings, the old oil paintings on the walls lit by flickering lamps, the hallway made to seem small and dingy by the heavy dark oak panelling on the walls and the dark red carpet on the floor.

"He did? Colm O'Connor are you lying to me?"

"Nope, my daddy called him back by painting a star on the floor and saying a spell out of one of the big books he has that I'm not allowed to touch.  Connor came through a big hole in the ceiling-"

"Like my great Uncle Mike when he stood on a rotted floorboard?"

"No, a _magic hole dummy," he replied, more than a little peeved at having his moment stolen. "Anyway he came through and tried to kill my daddy but he didn't manage it and then he started living here but he never comes out of this one room…"_

"Is he a m-m-monster?" Jessy stammered as they stopped outside a dark oak door, heavy thumping sounds coming from within mixed with guttural screams and shouts.

"_No," Colm looked at Jessy like he was stupid as he flung open the door to reveal a room plastered with heavy metal posters and a huge stereo, currently blasting out Slipknot. "He's my big brother!"_

"Colm how many times have I told you to _stay the hell out of my room?!"_

"Mom says you have to come down for dinner," Colm offered, smiling up sunnily at the big, burly youth.

"What're we having?" he asked suspiciously.

"Meatloaf I think…"

"Hmm, I guess I'll come down," he replied, stuffing the last of a Big Mac into his mouth before ushering the two boys out of his room and shutting the door. "You going to get him?"

The question was asked with a jerk of the head in the direction of Colm's parents' room and the youngster nodded before heading down towards the end of the hallway, Jessy cowering in his shadow.

"Colm?" Connor called, a smile in his voice. "You and your _boyfriend should be careful, he was in one helluva nasty mood earlier… said something about eating the next five-year-old that disturbed him…"_

Jessy whispered in Colm's ear fearfully.

"Wanna hold hands?"

"NO!" Colm yelped, crossing his arms in front of him and tucking his hands firmly into his armpits so the other boy could get no ideas. "And he's not my boyfriend you dweeb," he hollered after Connor who had strolled away, hands deeply in pockets, laughing to himself.

Colm knocked loudly on the final oak door and waited patiently until a deep, sleepy and growly voice rasped from the other side.

"Yes?"

"Dad? It's me, mommy says you have to come down for dinner, okay?"

"No problem, Colm, tell your mom I'll be down in a minute."

"Kay."


	7. But Uncle Spike Said You Wouldn't Mind

Author: Taz

Title: My Daddy Says... - Uncle Spike Said You Wouldn't Mind...

Summary: Uncle Spike's in the doghouse again... seems sending the little guy to school with a crossbow and a stake in his backpack didn't go down well with his parents...

Disclaimer: See previous chapters if you haven't got the gist yet.

Author's note: This was supposed to come before the last chapter (i.e. after Colm's show and tell experiences), I thought I'd deleted it and then found it again so it only makes sense if you assume the last chapter happened _after this one. Got that? Good..._

"Angel!" Buffy hollered the moment she entered the hotel, dragging a reluctant Colm behind her.

"What's wrong?" he appeared from behind the main desk, an armful of folders and two mugs weighing him down.

"Colm's been suspended from school."

"WHAT?!" The mugs hit the tiled floor with a crash, the files with a weak, papery thud.

"Seems he had an offensive weapon or two in the classroom," Buffy continued, holding up the stake and crossbow for Angel's inspection.

"Colm," Angel turned to his son angrily. "Why the hell did you take _those to school?"_

"It was show and tell," Colm explained. "The teacher said we had to bring an heirloom into class and Uncle Spike said-"

"Spike," Angel growled. "I might have known _he'd_ be behind all this. WILLIAM!"

"Bloody hell, what do you want?" Spike groaned, running a hand through his dishevelled hair and pulling on a black t-shirt as he descended the stairs.

"Why did you send my son to school with a crossbow in his schoolbag?" Angel asked angrily, stalking towards the younger vampire.

"Nibblet needed an heirloom, it was that or your legacy of empty hair gel tubs. What?" he looked in confusion between Buffy and Angel. "He didn't cause any harm did he?"

"Ah contraire," Angel growled. "In fact, he's been suspended."

"What, like, kicked out?" if it were possible, Spike would have gone pale, he knew how much effort and money it took to get a child a place in that fancy private school Colm was enrolled in. Angel and Buffy hadn't slept for weeks during the enrolment and selection process and the pride they'd felt when he'd gained entry... Spike ruefully bid a mental farewell to his limbs.

"No, fortunately for you, otherwise you would have no arms right now," Buffy informed the blonde icily. "He's not allowed to attend classes for a week, do you have any idea how this'll affect his grades? He _needs_ schooling at his age."

"Aw Nibblet's ahead in all his classes, we all know that, he's bloody bright," Spike said, relaxing slightly before adding under his breath. "Which is more than can be said for the poof... pull my arms off indeed."

"That's not the _point!" Angel exploded. "And by the way _I heard that_!"_

Spike swallowed nervously and glanced down at Colm. The child grinned back at him easily, obviously enjoying causing so much havoc.

"And you can wipe that smile off your face young man," Buffy snapped suddenly.

Colm's demeanour changed instantly, his eyes dropped to the floor, his shoulders sagged and he looked every inch the martyr.

"Go to your room Colm and think about what you've done," Angel said to his son crisply.

"Aw but _dad..."_

"_Now!"_

Colm climbed the stairs and stomped to his room, slamming the door and knocking several pictures off the walls in the hallway.

"He's so damn _strong," were the last words he heard, spoken nervously, from his mother, before he flicked on the TV he had in his room._

Just as he was getting into a cartoon, his ears still straining for the sound of his parents and Uncle Spike arguing downstairs, he was interrupted by a gentle tapping at his window. Glancing up he felt his face break into a broad grin as he recognised the dark haired apparition at his window. Scurrying across the room he flung the window open and stood back as the shadowy figure dropped stealthily into his room, shooting him a little smile before grabbing him suddenly, clapping a hand over his mouth to stop him squealing.

"Shh... I'm not gonna hurt ya," came the Boston twang in his ear.

He wriggled until he could wrap his arms around the beautiful young woman's neck in a bear hug.

"Faith!" he yelped, when she let go of his mouth.

"Hiya Colm! I woulda come in downstairs but it sounded like your mom and dad were having a minor incident with Spikey boy."

"Yeah, I got 'spended."

"No kidding?" She didn't seem remotely perturbed by this, merely picked a scrap of dirt from under one nail.

"Yeah," he had the grace to look a little ashamed. "I took a crossbow to school..."

"Serious? Christ kid! Not even _I_ was that blunt..."

"I didn't mean to hurt anyone," he insisted. "I just wanted to show them it, you know? But the teacher's eyes went all strange and her face went a funny colour and then she sent me to the principal when I showed them Mister Pointy..."

"You showed them your mom's favourite stake?"

Colm nodded.

"Christ kid," Faith began to laugh heartily until tears streamed down her face in mirth. "You... you actually... took.... you took a crossbow and a stake... and your teacher... your poor mom and dad! How do they cope with you..."

"It's _not funny," Colm growled, crossing his arms and glaring at the woman. "Dad grounded me."_

"I always knew he'd be an old hen when it came to his kids," Faith chuckled, sitting up and wiping her eyes. "Aw c'mon Colm, you know they're just worried you'll get yourself kicked out of that fancy pants school and have to go rough in a public school... although you'd be able to stick up for yourself... a crossbow!"

She collapsed into giggles once again and Colm huffed over to his games console and began playing a game, completely blanking her.

"Faith?" Buffy's voice came into the room from the other side of the door.

Colm leapt away from his computer and threw himself towards his desk, pulling out a book and making it look as though he'd been studying. Buffy entered the room and allowed him a slight smile when she saw him apparently slaving over his books.

"I thought I heard you," she addressed her sister slayer. "How long have you been here?"

"About ten minutes," Faith replied.

"Has he been studying the whole time?"

"Yeah, he only stopped to tell me what's happened," Faith shot him a sly wink and he smiled gratefully, knowing things would only get worse if his mom thought he'd been watching TV or playing on his computer.

"He's been suspended... Angel's driving himself insane downstairs picturing him being educated at the local school... he doesn't realise how privileged he is to attend a nice private school."

"Aw c'mon B, the kid was just doing a presentation, he didn't mean any harm... anyway, it's not like he'll actually _need_ school... uh I mean."

Faith backtracked furiously as Buffy bestowed her most evil glare upon her and Colm shot her a hopeful look.

"Unless he wants to get a good job and work with his dad some day," she finished, thankful she'd been able to think on her feet.

"Uncle Spike didn't go to school," Buffy said to Colm, her voice hard. "And look at him. He can't look after himself and he relies on your father and I to put a roof over his head and a few mugs of blood a day in front of him. In short, he's become a moocher."

"I heard that," Spike's voice floated up from downstairs.

"Now, if you were a sensible little boy, which I think you are, you'll write a letter apologising to your teacher for scaring her and in future, you'll never let Uncle Spike prepare your school projects for you, always run them past me or your dad. Okay?"

"Okay mom."

"Good boy, come on Faith, I'll go get you a coffee."

"Mom?"

"Yes, Colm?"

"Does this mean I'm still grounded?"

"Yes Colm."

"But _mom..."_

"I don't want to hear it."

"But you didn't ground daddy and he said a dirty word this morning."

"Your father doesn't say dirty words," Buffy said, looking at her son with a puzzled frown.

"He did," Colm insisted. "I heard him this morning in your bedroom he told you to go faster then he shouted the 'F' word."

Faith had begun giggling again as she realised what Colm was talking about, Buffy had gone bright red and was trying to drag the brunette from the room. 

"Uh... daddy's grown up, he can say what he wants," Buffy finally reasoned, slamming the door and dragging her near hysterical friend with her.

Colm shrugged and pulled out a stubby pencil and a piece of paper. Sometimes grown up's were weird...


	8. I'm NOT Being A Horse

Author: Taz

Title: 'My Daddy Says... I'm _Not_ Being A Horse'

Summary: St Davidson's Preparatory School puts on it's annual Spring Pageant and, well, Colm isn't overjoyed at the part he's given.

Disclaimer: Don't own them.. but _damn_ it would be better if I did.

"And now I'll read out the list of actors in this year's pageant."

An anticipated hush fell over the room full of five-year-olds, twenty pairs of eager eyes trained on their teacher, twenty eager mouths pressed tightly closed for fear of making a noise and having the whole exciting exercise called off. All except for one dark-haired little boy drumming his heels noisily against the floor.

"Colm O'Connor stop that racket this instant," snapped his teacher, shooting him a glare reserved for use only by kindergarten teachers and agitated mothers. It was a look Colm knew only too well from both parties and his actions ceased instantly. 

"Sorry ma'am."

"That's better. Okay, as you know, this year's play is about King Arthur and so it needs someone to read out the story, what do we call reading out loud in a play?"

"Narrating!"

"Very good Jessy, but you should raise your hand before you answer."

"Dumbass."

"Colm O'Connor! I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that _appalling _language! Okay, since there's a lot to learn, I will be narrating. King Arthur will be played by Jessy Roarke."

"_Yes!"_

"Shut up _nancy," Colm hissed, being careful to keep his voice low._

"Miss Johnson! Colm called me a-"

"Tell her and I'll get Uncle Spike to eat you."

"What was that Jessy?"

"Nothing ma'am."

"Okay, where was I? Ah yes, Corey Jakes will play Merlin, Lancelot will be played by Katie Markson..."

The list went on with every child squealing happily as their part was read out until finally only one youngster remained, waiting eagerly to find out what he would be playing.

"Now Colm, we have a very special part for you," the teacher beamed and went behind her desk, producing a piece of brown card with some drawing on it. She handed this item to Colm with a flourish, not noticing his look of complete bemusement as she continued.

"As we all know, the brave knights couldn't have done anything without a noble steed and so-"

"I am _not being a horse," Colm yelped in disgust as he realised the card was, in fact, an equine mask._

"Now Colm don't be so silly," his teacher soothed. "It's one of the most important parts in the show."

"My daddy's a vampire, so's my uncle, my mommy's a slayer, my aunt Cordy's part demon, my aunt Willow's a witch and uncle Oz is a werewolf and you want me to be a _horse?" Colm was incredulous as he threw down the mask and jumped to his feet, planting his smart leather school shoes squarely apart and placing his hands on his hips; the stance he had seen his mother take with his father every time she got her own way._

"Colm, you have quite a vivid imagination, if only we could channel that positively..."

"I'm not doing it," he stated flatly.

"But Colm," his teacher pleaded.

"NO!"

"Okay, maybe we can strike a compromise..."

*          *          *          

Buffy and Angel entered the school hall and moved to the front to take their seats. The curtain in front twitched and a small, cute face made itself known, grinning when it recognised it's parents. Buffy blew her son a kiss before he ducked back quickly and a soft shout of 'Colm O'Connor it is _not too late to stop you doing this, you know?' could be heard._

"What part did he say he was playing?" Angel hissed into his wife's ear as the lights dimmed and the curtain went up.

"He wouldn't say," she replied, taking his hand and smiling as little Jessy strode onto the stage in his King Arthur costume. "He said he wanted it to be a surprise."

They watched with indulgent smiles as the five-year-olds began to act out the ancient myths of Merlin and the sword in the stone until, the music moved up a key, trumpets blasting from the state-of-the-art speakers and the young King strode about the stage waving his sword.

"It came to the attention of the king that an evil dragon had moved into his kingdom," read the teacher, putting an awful lot of emphasis into her voice. "The dragon was noisy and rude and-"

She was cut off as said dragon leapt into the stage roaring and flinging his little arms around and being very dramatic.

"Get off the stage _idiot," the king hissed at the Colm/dragon. "You're not on yet..."_

"Shut up Jessy," the Colm/dragon hissed at the Jessy/King. "Or I'll bitecha!"

"Oh God," Buffy groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. "Is our child threatening King Arthur?"

"I think he might be," Angel responded, a grin lighting up his face.

"Don't you dare laugh," Buffy elbowed her husband in the ribs. "You shouldn't encourage him."

"I never liked that other kid anyway," Angel shrugged, openly laughing as Colm responded to Jessy slapping his arm with a plastic sword by rugby tackling him to the ground and roaring in his face.

The two continued to wrestle in the middle of the stage until a male teacher rushed onstage and bodily lifted Colm off the ground; arms and legs still swinging, dragon mask askew and mouth opened in a deafening roar. The King climbed slowly and unsteadily to his feet, readjusting his cape and taking a deep breath before retrieving his sword from the other side of the stage and waving it triumphantly as the teacher continued to speak.

"And so the dragon was defeated, never to be seen again..."

The play continued without a hitch and the final curtain call was made with Colm stepping forward to take a bow to cheers from the audience. As they collected their son Buffy was waiting for the teacher to approach them. She did, looking most concerned.

"Mr and Mrs O'Connor?"

"Yes," Buffy smiled innocently and handed her son's backpack to Angel.

"Could I possibly have a moment of your time? You see it's about Colm... well, he's very energetic, isn't he?"

"He certainly is," Angel put in smoothly. "But surely all children are?"

"Yes, well, that's the thing, most children find a way to _channel_ their energy but Colm seems to want to use violence all the time. Could I ask if he sees many action films as he always has very inventive and descriptive tales of vampires and monsters-"

"Demons," Angel corrected without thinking, instantly avoiding eye contact with his wife as she pressed the heel of her shoe pointedly into his foot.

"He has an active imagination," Buffy put in smoothly. "Like a lot of children his age he watches Goosebumps and things and he just picks it up."

"Yes well maybe you could consider monitoring his television viewing and finding something for him to channel his excess energy into... have you considered karate lessons?"


	9. Mommy Can Be Scary When She's Angry

Title: My Daddy Says… Mommy Can Be Scary When She's Mad

Author: Taz

Rating: G

Summary: Buffy's had a hard day at work; all she wants to do is put her feet up and relax. But Colm has other ideas.

"Colm Sean O'Connor! Put that down _right now_!" Buffy bellowed at her son as he sprinted into the room with one of Angel's broadswords clutched in his little hands.

He skidded to a halt, nearly impaling the, very expensive, leather armchair that sat in the living room. Looking at his mother with huge brown eyes he spoke.

"Why?" he asked, innocently.

"You'll hurt yourself or someone else with that thing," she snapped impatiently, knowing he was trying to wind her up.

"Why?" he repeated infuriatingly.

"Because I said so, that's why," she replied easily, it was a war of words they often played, and it was best to give a conclusive answer then just ignore him.

"Why?" he tried, once more, heading out of the room to return the sword to its case.

Buffy sighed and moved into the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee and drinking it down quickly. How come no one else was ever around when Colm was at his most energetic? She was going to have to have serious words with his father. 

A huge thud interrupted her thoughts, followed almost instantaneously by a loud groan. Rushing from the room she headed up the stairs two at a time before charging into her son's bedroom. Her husband lay on the floor in the middle of the room, a dazed expression on his face as he rubbed at the back of his head.

Colm lay slumped on the bed, hysterical laughter bubbling out of him and tears of mirth sliding down his cheeks.

"What on _earth_ is going on in here?" Buffy asked, crossing her arms and tapping her foot, her face set like thunder.

"Daddy… Daddy," Colm began before snorting with laughter once again.

"I fell," Angel explained sheepishly. "Off the bunk."

"You fell?" Buffy repeated, her voice monotone. "Off your son's bed? Can I ask why you were climbing on it?"

"We were playing pirates…" Angel volunteered, knowing that if he could, he would be blushing.

"Pirates? Angel O'Connor, sometimes, I swear you are the single dumbest man alive!" She exploded, pacing the room. "You know he gets hyperactive yet you _insist_ on getting him excited-"

"Buffy calm down," Angel climbed to his feet and took up a protective stance. "We were just horsing around-"

"Yeah well I'm sick and tired of it Angel. If it's not his teachers complaining it's the parents. I can't take it any more and all I want to do when I get home is have a little peace and quiet. Is that too much to ask?"

"Sorry," he muttered sullenly. Colm crawled out of his hiding place beneath his duvet and took up position beside his father, head down, eyes on the floor.

"No you're not," she snapped, spinning on her heel and stalking out of the room.

"I guess we made mom pretty mad," Colm muttered ruefully, tracing patterns on the rug with the toe of his shoe.

"I guess we did," Angel sighed.

"We should go down and say sorry…."

"Son o' mine," Angel grinned. "I have a better idea…"

*              *                *

"Dad," Colm whispered theatrically. "What do I do with this?"

"Just pop it down on the counter top," Angel instructed, cracking eggs into a bowl.

"Are you sure this'll work?" Colm asked doubtfully. "Mom seemed really mad…"

"Your mother can be scary when she's angry," Angel conceded. "But trust me, she'll _love_ this."

*              *                *

Buffy sighed at the blissful quiet that had settled over the hotel and leaned her head back against the chair, closing her eyes slightly. The silence was tangible, making her ears ring with it's intensity. She couldn't remember the old place being this quiet in years.

Wait a minute.

Wait just a goddamn _minute_.

No noise meant Colm was doing something unspeakable, the last time he'd been quiet for _this_ long he'd been drawing on the cream walls in the hallway… the full length of the wall… in permanent marker…

Jumping to her feet she hurried through the rooms, pausing to look into each one to see what mischief her son had gotten himself into. It was worse than she could ever have imagined, the bedrooms, living room, bathroom, study, offices, basement and training room were all empty. Which only left the kitchen. Which contained enough products to have her on her knees scrubbing until at least midnight.

He was _so_ grounded. His father was _so _dead. They were both… the most absolutely adorable men she had ever had the amazing good fortune to meet.

Angel smiled hopefully at his wife as she stopped dead in the kitchen doorway and stared at them open-mouthed.

The open-plan dining room could be seen showing a huge, carefully polished oak table laden with a delicious looking meal. Angel had surpassed himself cooking a full roast chicken with all the trimmings, glazed carrots, mashed potatoes with cream, fresh peas, crisp-looking mange tout, and aromatic gravy laced with red wine. Behind him, and bearing the same sheepish grin, her son was half-way through the act of adding black cherries to the top of a dark chocolate tart.

Smiling she tried to keep a stern note in her voice.

"What's all this about?"

"We're sorry about earlier, mommy," Colm whispered, stepping forward and wrapping his little arms around her waist to hug her. "We didn't mean to make you mad."

"I'm sorry, baby," she murmured, kneeling down on the expensive tiles to hug her son and kiss his brow. "And isn't this a wonderful surprise."

"M'lady?" Angel offered her his hand before leading her over to the table, propped against her wind glass was a small card obviously made by Colm. The front showed a smiling set of people, the tallest and smallest with unruly mops of dark hair and the mid-sized one with flowing hair in yellow crayon. All three were stood in a field sprouting colourful flowers and a huge yellow sun hung in the sky. Beneath the colourful picture, in Colm's unsteady script, the words 'Sorry mommy' were emblazoned. She picked it up and smiled at her son.

"This is very good, honey."

"I did it for you. Daddy only helped me with the spelling."

"It's excellent," she beamed as Angel pulled out her chair for her before dishing up her share of the meal. "You guys should cook more often."

Suddenly there was a huge crash followed by an agonised wail from the kitchen.

"Daaaaaaaaad!" Colm yelled. "I dropped the chocolate thing!"


	10. Field Trips Aid Education

Title: My Daddy Says… Field Trips Aid Education

Author: Taz

Rating: G

Summary: It's just a little trip to the museum… what could _possibly_ go wrong?

Author's Notes: Well, that last chapter sucked more than a vampire at a blood bank (heh heh). Let me know if it's getting better or worse guys, all your reviews are appreciated…

"Okay, class," Miss Johnson called, looking around the classroom. "Form two rows and follow me out to the school bus."

The class did as instructed without a murmur of protest, all excited at the thought of seeing all the cool displays they had been promised inhabited the museum. Colm, finding himself next to Jakob, grinned across at his friend as they filed out into the school yard and boarded the big, luxurious coach that the exclusive school provided for it's students. 

Miss Johnson looked back at her young charges and smiled in relief, they all seemed calm, especially young Colm, he could be a bit of a handful but just look at him now. So sweet and demure looking as he reached into his bag and pulled out a STAKE?! Oh no! This wouldn't do at all!

Thankfully, she noted that, as she walked towards him he didn't seem to be acting particularly threateningly with it, he answered a question from Jakob and shrugged before making to stuff it back into his backpack.

"Colm O'Connor! Give me that piece of wood _this instant_!" 

"Geese, I wasn't gonna _hurt_ anyone with it! I didn't even _know _I had it in my bag! Connor must have put it there…"

"I don't care if the queen of England put it there," his teacher snapped fiercely, holding out her hand to take the grudgingly proffered stake.

Content that he could no longer kill his fellow students, she shot a parting retort before making her way back up to the front of the bus. "One more incident Colm, and you're sitting up front with me."

Colm, looking suitably horrified, hunkered down his seat and stayed there, refusing to get involved in the singing of 'ninety-nine bottles of soda on the wall' (of which Miss Johnson was thankful as it usually tried to defer into his own rousing rendition of ninety-nine-bottles-of-blood-on-the-wall which he swore, ridiculously _of course_, that his Uncle had taught him). Within a short while and much to the driver's relief, they pulled up at the front steps of the museum and unloaded his expensive cargo with their teacher.

"Right children, let's go straight in and sort out our worksheets, then we'll take a look at the exhibits."

The class groaned collectively at the mention of 'worksheets' but scurried up the steps, excited and chattering. As they made their way around the museum, Miss Johnson nearly sent poor Colm and Jakob to sleep with her boring repertoires on Viking and Roman life, as these were the two periods in history the class were studying. What did the sons of two slayers care for the way Roman women washed their clothes? _They_ thought these people were supposed to be the best fighters in the world! They had swords and shields and really cool helmets… 

However, it seemed that Miss Johnson had saved the best until last. As they rounded a bend they came upon a reconstructed waxwork scene of Romans fighting it out with Celts… a completely fascinating exhibit for all the kids. After a few minutes of their silent awe she suddenly became uneasy. They were quiet and that could mean only one thing; Colm wasn't around. Glancing uneasily at the group of kids she wasn't even remotely surprised to discover that he was nowhere in sight. 

Before she even had a chance to open her mouth and almighty crash could be heard from the display. All the class squealed and spun to look with interest. _Two of the Romans were moving!_ Albeit, very short Romans, they were definitely fully-fledged centurions with plumed helmets, shields and swords. The only thing, aside from their diminutive height, that set them aside from their waxy counterparts was the fact that, beneath the ornate breastplates, they were dressed in the distinctive black blazer and trousers of St Davidson's Prep school.

"Be scared of me you crumb bums!" Colm bellowed, hacking randomly at one Celt's leg.

"Yeah, we're big scary Romans," Jakob snarled, thrusting his sword towards the belly of an almost surprised-looking Roman general.

They proceeded to mock spar, both with each other and the waxwork Celts until, wriggling and shouting, they were dragged away from the display by a bemused curator and extremely angry first grade teacher. To cheers of laughter from the class they were hauled away to the school bus where the driver became their extremely reluctant supervisor for the next twenty minutes until the class had been to the gift shop.

"We're gonna be in trouble now," Jakob lamented.

"Maybe your mommy'll let you go to another school," Colm suggest brightly, Jakob had only recently started matriculating at St. Davidson's and hated it with a passion.

"Maybe," he agreed glumly. "But _you're_ mom's gonna _kill_ you…"

"No, she won't," Colm shook his head, somewhat uncertainly. "Uh… I don't think…"

"Will too."

"Will not."

"Will."

"Won't."

"Shut up Jakob, you sound like Jessy."

Jakob opened his mouth to argue, thought better of it and snapped it shut. Finally, he thought of something to say.

"You think we'll get grounded?"

"Yep."

"Oh _man_… I was supposed to be going to the game this weekend."

"Watch it on TV," Colm shrugged.

"Won't have any TV if I'm grounded _dumbass_."

"Who's playing?"

"The Dolphins."

"They're lame."

"Are not."

"Are too."

"Not."

"Well, my daddy says… ARGH!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Now _I _sound like Jessy!"


	11. Do You Like Scary Movies?

Title: My Daddy Says… Do You Like Scary Movies?

Author: Taz

Rating: G

Summary: Connor's been roped into babysitting. To while away the hours, he decides to have a little fun with Colm.

Author's Notes: From Connor's age (I've got him down as a teenager) you can tell I've screwed irrevocably with the timeline here… hope you can just accept it at face value and go along with it lol! I'm really starting to enjoy this story… he's coming into his own but man am I glad he's not mine! And a big thank you to everyone that's reviewed so far - I'm glad you're all enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

"Get your ass down here munchkin," Connor bellowed up the stairs at his little brother.

"Don't _wanna_!" Colm yelled back. "You're mean! You'll make me listen to Slipknot and _I hate them_!"

"No I won't! Dad said we had to stay together all night so you don't break anything. Now get your ass down here and watch the movie."

"Colm's head popped over the banister.

"What movie?"

"Disembowler Seven," Connor informed him. "C'mon, we're all waiting…"

"Who's we?"

"Just a few friends, now come on!"

"Fine," Colm tramped down the stairs, trying to hide his eagerness at the thought of spending an evening with his older brother's cool friends. "But can we watch something else? Horror movies are _lame_."

"No we can't," Connor snapped. "Sorry, kid, but we don't have anything here with a Disney logo on it…"

"But mommy said I could watch Homeward Bound! She really did!"

"Ooh scary stuff Colm," Connor teased.  "Think you could handle all the fluffy little animals?"

"No fair! You're being mean! I'll tell mom and dad on you!"

"Shut up, sit down and I _won't_ hit you with the battleaxe," Connor threatened, pushing his little brother down into a chair in front of the TV. 

Colm may have been many things but he wasn't stupid. He knew better than to argue with a teenager that was double his height and three times his weight and so settled obediently into the chair and stared fearfully at the screen. He may have been the son of a vampire and a slayer but he still didn't like horror movies, no siree!

As the film began the older boys all jeered at poor Colm, cowering behind a cushion as the flickering images filled the screen.

"Aw c'mon Colm," James, a swarthy blonde boy, teased mercilessly. "It's only the ads!"

"Don't care," Colm mumbled. "You're all poopy-heads for making me watch this and my daddy's going to kick your butts."

"Shut up pipsqueak, the movie's starting!"

As the film began to progress, to squeaks of consternation from Colm and cheers from the rest of the viewers, it became apparent that this wasn't your average slasher movie. It was gory to the extreme and soon had even Connor's stomach turning. As he'd discovered, death and destruction was one thing when it involved demons but when it was people it just seemed… horrible.

After around thirty minutes and about as many horrific murders Connor noticed that Colm was being awfully quiet. Turning in his seat he flicked his eyes towards the chair where he'd deposited his younger brother. It felt as though his stomach had fallen through his shoes as he realised that Colm wasn't there, only the cushion lay abandoned on the seat. 

"Uh…guys?"  he addressed his friends. "Have any of you seen Colm?"

"Yeah," Corey nodded. "He's right… uh oh."

They all jumped up, regardless of the movie still playing away to itself on Angel's forty-inch plasma screen TV. As they all began searching the room and shouting Colm's name Connor began to panic. If his dad didn't kill him for losing the little brat, Buffy _would_. Just as his thoughts reached their state of peak desperation, a loud and furious knocking echoed around the living room. All eyes swung to the door.

_Boom boom boom._

Whoever was knocking really had an arm on them. 

"Go open the door, Connor…"

"Yeah man, go on."

"No way!" Connor baulked, he wasn't armed, he was surrounded by mortals and a potentially crazed axe man was on the other side of his living room door. Oh yeah, and his little brother was missing presumed dead.

Before they could argue the point and further, the handle began to squeak around. Three petrified teenage boys watched it turn until the latch clicked into place and the door began to creak open theatrically. As soon as the door was open a vicious looking demon shot into the room, flying straight at the boys.

At this point Connor did what any red-blooded teenage boy would do in his position; he screamed like a woman and dived behind the couch. However, something happened before the demon could reach them, it got its legs tangled up with the rug and sprawled, with a winded-sounding 'oomph', on the living room floor.

Connor recognised the noise and began to seethe angrily.

"Colm," he ground out through gritted teeth. "You better get up and sit down before I beat your rear end black and blue."

The demon rose regally to it's feet and threw it's weapon, a sharp blade, with unerring accuracy, pinning Connor to the wall by his shirt sleeve before spinning on it's heel and stalking out of the room.

"Why of all the stupid little…" Connor growled, ripping his arm free.

"Dude, your brother totally made you scream like a little girl," Corey laughed.

"Did I?" Colm appeared seemingly from nowhere. 

"I oughta," Connor lunged at his brother. "What the hell did you think you were doing!?"

"What? What did I do?"

"You know exactly what you did… dressing up like that and throwing that knife…"

"But I was asleep…"

"What?"

"I crawled under the sofa 'cause I was scared," he hung his head shamefully. "And I fell asleep."

"Liar!"

"Dude, maybe he's telling the truth. If he'd gone out the room before, we woulda seen him come back in, wouldn't we?"

"Holy crap," James jumped up speedily. "Is that the time? Man I gotta be getting home."

"But…" Connor looked fearfully around the room; Buffy and his dad wouldn't be home for ages and if that _thing_ hadn't been Colm…

"Yeah, man, I'm gonna have to go too," Corey grabbed his jacket and made for the door, heading back to his own home that didn't have it's very own knife-wielding _thing_.

Colm watched them go before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans and heading for the door. 

"Well, Connor, I'm going to bed, see you tomorrow."

"Colm! Wait!" Connor grabbed hold of his little brother's wrist and tugged him up the stairs toward his own room. "We can watch Homeward Bound, c'mon in with me, it'll be fun…"

Colm shrugged affably. Half an hour later he was settled in Connor's bed with his big brother lounging on the armchair in the corner, watching him as he slept. He wasn't a bad kid when he was asleep, sorta sweet looking really…

_~*~Colm's thoughts~*~_

_You Big Meanie, Connor! Bet you never thought about that passageway from the office to the living room, did you? Hah! Just think what your girlfriend would think if she knew you and your friends were scared of an old Halloween costume! Well, I won't tell, and I won't do it again, just as long as you don't make fun of me again… but try anything like that again and maybe it'll be time for Mr Scary-Demon-With-The-Big-Knife to make another show…_


End file.
